


StormPilot Suite: Day 4 - Scherzando

by whorl



Series: StormPilot Suite [6]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Stormpilot - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 05:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6598357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whorl/pseuds/whorl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn and Poe Dameron get to know each other. Perhaps a little romance may blossom, if they are given enough time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steamy

**Author's Note:**

> Poe Dameron, Finn, myriad other Star Wars characters, and small sections of dialogue from "The Force Awakens" that appear in this story are all the property of Disney/Lucasfilm. No copyright infringement intended. Please don't sue me, I have no money.

The air was still chilly as dawn broke. Poe gathered up his bath kit and paused for a moment to gently lay a blanket over his still-sleeping friend. Finn coughed and stirred for a moment, then resumed snoring. Poe grinned as he jogged over to the base.

Most people were still asleep in the dormitories at that early hour. Poe was happy to have the bathroom to himself. He glanced critically at his wounds before he stepped into the steamy shower. The ugly bruises over his ribs and thighs had started turning a sickly yellow, but at least the scrapes on his face were mostly healed over. The burns didn’t look as bad, but those would leave scars. As the water hit him, he was struck by the smell of campfire smoke, renewed by the warm spray of the shower, and his mind flitted back to his friend still sleeping at camp.

Poe wasn’t sure what to do about Finn. He had resolved not to rush in, to let Finn move at his own pace. But his own desire hadn’t diminished. If anything, it grew stronger, fueled by the frustration of restraint. Poe hadn’t had that feeling—having a relentless, hopelessly unrequited interest in someone—in quite a while. He was pretty sure if he fell any harder for Finn, he was going to start vomiting butterflies and rainbows.

Poe tried to consider the situation dispassionately. _It wouldn’t be fair to him._ Poe didn’t think that Finn would offer any objection if his attention took a more romantic turn. But Poe was pretty sure he could also convince his friend to light himself on fire with sufficient coaxing, given how Finn listened to him when they talked. And everything was so new for Finn. Poe didn’t want to trample Finn’s chance to explore love for the first time. _Maybe some day. When we win. If we win._

Poe’s thoughts turned back to his friend. Finn would be waking up soon. He could picture him stretching, easing the kinks out of his neck and back. Muscles sculpted through years of military training, ready for action at a moment’s notice. Getting ready to take his own shower, pulling his shirt slowly over his broad shoulders, unbuckling his trousers... Poe closed his eyes and a low, quiet moan escaped him. For the second time that morning, he was very glad that he was alone in the bathroom.

Poe took a few steadying breaths, collecting himself as he stood under the scalding water. He chuckled wryly. _Good job, Dameron_ — _this whole ‘getting over Finn’ thing is going really well so far._

Poe stepped out of the shower, wiped a clear space in the steamy mirror, and began lathering his face. As he shaved, he considered what he could do to get the rest of the crew to accept Finn as an ally. At that point, he’d settle for other people starting to talk to him at all. As much as he liked spending so much alone time with Finn, Poe knew that wouldn’t help him meet more people who worked on the base. He was sure that some of his friends would readily take to Finn, if they only had the opportunity to meet him and get to know him a little bit. Poe resolved to do something about it that night, while they still had time. He didn’t care to dwell on his own mortality, but he knew that the odds were heavily against them in the upcoming battle. It scared Poe to think that if he didn’t make it back from their mission, Finn would be left with without a single friend in the world. Except Rey, if she managed to survive. Poe smiled as he packed up his shaving kit, imagining Finn’s plucky comrade. He hoped that he’d get the chance to meet her.


	2. “Spaceship Idiot”

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Finn couldn’t keep the anxiety from his voice.

“Probably not, but this ‘nobody—except Poe—talks to Finn’ thing is getting ridiculous.” Poe laughed, trying to cheer up his friend. “Don’t worry, I’ll just introduce you to the nice people.” Poe was determined. He knew that once his friends took the time to talk with Finn, they would see that he was a good guy.

“But it’s only two days until the—until we—”

“This will be the most social night. Tomorrow night’s no good, everyone will be worried about whatever is coming. Mood stays pretty somber. But tonight, we still have time.”

As they walked past the barracks a small crowd was exiting. One broke away from the rest of the group and headed towards them, calling out to Poe.

“Hey! Pankpa Koochoo!” Finn’s eyes grew wide as he watched the creature saunter up to them on its arms.

Poe smiled at the pilot who stopped in front of them. “Achuta.” He hadn’t planned on this particular introduction, but it could be a brief practice run for his new friend. If nothing else, it would make the later introductions seem much easier—Poe knew that it was way more intimidating meeting a dug for the first time than a human. “Finn, this is Lorato.”

Finn wasn’t sure what to do, if he should shake its—foot? “Uh, hello?” He didn’t extend his hand, but instead gave a little wave. _Stupid._

Poe chuckled at Finn’s awkwardness. He inclined his head towards Finn. “She calls me ‘Spaceship Idiot.’ Thinks it’s a term of endearment.”

Lorato gestured towards Poe with a sinewy, outstretched leg. “Panwa koga?”

Finn couldn’t understand the words, but between the tone and the look she was giving Poe, the intention was clear.

“Azalus cheeka!” Poe placed his hand over his heart. “Chuba naga ateema.” He raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

“Ah, loca!” Lorato spat the words out, but Finn thought she might be smiling as she ambled off.

“What—just happened?” Finn stared at the creature’s retreating form. “And what **language** was that?”

“Huttese. I went to a Republic school, so we really only focused on Basic, but my mother insisted that I learn some essentials in other languages.” Poe laughed. “Good thing, too. I only know a little bit of Huttese, but there’s a lot of word overlap. Inflection is very important.” At Finn’s quizzical look, Poe continued. “So, what I said was literally ‘Not want now,’ but those same words said in a different tone can also mean ‘I want you now.’ And since I’m not having my clothes ripped off me as we speak—” Poe made a clawing motion, reminiscent of Lorato’s gesturing, “—I presume I got the meaning right. Dugs aren’t really known for their subtlety.”

Finn was looking positively green.

“You know, that **is** a funny story, actually.” Poe pointed his thumb over his back towards Lorato. “And also how I figured out I was allergic to dugs. See, I—”

Finn was pretty sure he wasn’t up to hearing that story. “Poe, uh—” He shook his head, settling on a safer subject. “What other languages do you speak?”

Poe smiled. He wasn’t used to shyness; his friends were a pretty open bunch. He found it endearing in Finn. “I learned a whole lot when I was young, but mostly I just remember minimal conversational stuff. Like, not a lot of people **speak** Bothan these days, but it’s useful to know it, with so many Bothan spies. I practice talking Sullustan with Commander Nunb when I get the chance.” Poe chewed his lip. “I think Shyriiwook’s the hardest for me? I’m hoarse for days afterwards. And Chewbacca says my accent’s terrible.”

“Rey understood what Chewbacca was saying. Don’t know if she could speak the language, though. I wonder how she learned it?”

“Lot of languages spoken on trading planets. It helps to know ’em. You know, between fighting, flying, and casually shooting the shit with Chewbacca, it sounds like your friend Rey is a pretty serious bad-ass.” Poe saw the worry in Finn’s eyes as he thought about Rey, and he tried to redirect the conversation. “So, I take it you didn’t learn a million languages in between the combat training?”

“I wish we had. They had droids as interpreters, if they needed them for interrogations. We were forbidden from learning anything but Basic. I’m not sure how we could’ve, anyway. The First Order said that all other languages were inferior.” Finn shook his head.

“Ah, don’t feel so bad. The only language I’m really **fluent** in is Basic. Oh, and Binary, of course.” Poe shrugged.

“Is that what BB-8 speaks?” Finn was familiar with the little droid’s beeps and whistles, and he thought he could sort of figure out what the droid meant much of the time, just by its mannerisms.

“Yep. It’s sort of the equivalent of Basic, but for droids. I don’t know if anyone actually tries to speak it, but it’s a handy language to understand. BB-8 tells some great stories.” Poe laughed. “Did you know? There’s some beautiful droid poetry. You should listen to it, sometime.” At Finn’s incredulous look, Poe continued. “No, I’m—I’m serious. Even if you don’t understand the language, the poetry is still—” Poe searched for the right word. “Melodic.”

“I just didn’t picture you as a poetry person.”

“Hey, how many other former Stormtroopers even know what poetry **is** , Mister I’ve-been-to-a-secret-library?” Poe couldn’t help teasing his friend.

“True enough.” Finn laughed along with Poe. “Sure, maybe I’ll ask BB-8 to read me some poems one of these days.”

“Well, if poetry doesn’t end up being your thing, Chewbacca seems to tolerate you. Maybe you can ask him to give you some lessons in Shyriiwook.”

“You know, Poe, I like my arms where they are— **in** their sockets.”

“Ha. Let’s go introduce you to some folks. We’ll start with people who also speak Basic.” Poe slung his arm around Finn’s shoulders and led his friend inside the main hall of the base. _Here goes nothing._


	3. Getting along

Finn could feel the energy from the crowded cantina before they even stepped inside. The steady hum of conversation was occasionally punctuated by a sharp outburst of laughter. Finn tried to quell his nervousness, unsuccessfully. _Oh, man, I have a bad feeling about this._ He wanted to turn around and head back to the campsite, but Poe looked like he was on a mission.

Poe stopped so abruptly inside the doorway that Finn nearly fell over. They both stepped off to the side as Poe glanced around the room, as though he was searching for someone in particular. Finn cocked an eyebrow in his direction.  
  
“I'm just looking for a few specific people. Some to avoid.” At Finn’s worried look, Poe smiled reassuringly as he continued to scan the crowd. “Don’t worry, I'm not going to throw you to the rancors.”

After a minute of searching, Poe seemed to settle on a group of half a dozen or so people sitting in low chairs on the far side of the bar. A mix of pilots and officers, as best as Finn could tell by their outfits. Poe sidled up to them, full of his usual cheerful confidence, and, with practiced movement, hopped over the back of an unoccupied couch, landing easily in the seat.

“Hey guys, this is Finn.” Poe looked back at Finn, gesturing pointedly with his head from where Finn remained standing to the empty seat beside him. He turned back to the group, and with deliberate casualness, continued, “He’s the one I told you about—the guy who pulled me off Kylo Ren’s ship.” At this, one of the seated pilots suddenly stood up and silently walked out of the cantina. Poe glared at his back as the man strode out of the room. _Coward_. But Poe was satisfied when the rest of the group stayed put.

Finn walked around the couch to take the open seat—he wasn't about to attempt acrobatics—and Poe began to introduce the others, nodding to each in turn. Conversation resumed, a little hesitantly at first, but nobody seemed too concerned about having the newcomer in their midst. Unsurprisingly, most talk was about the upcoming battle, though the pilots couldn’t help retelling their tales of past glories. For Finn, it was all new, and he listened to each story with earnest interest. After an hour and a few rounds of drinks, the others were feeling comfortable enough to ask Finn some questions directly, and seemed genuinely interested to hear what he had to say. Whatever he was drinking had helped calm his anxiety a little bit as well, but he heeded Poe’s quiet suggestion that he alternate between the shared pitcher on the table and glasses of water.

Poe watched the group carefully for any signs of hostility, and was pleased to see that everyone seemed to be getting along well. He smiled, feeling a twinge of pride, as he saw Finn began to speak up with a touch more confidence. He figured that Finn would be all right on his own, briefly, if he took a moment to get up and order another round for the group.

Poe quietly excused himself and made his way over to the bar. He nodded at the bartender, gesturing towards his group of friends, and then plunked himself down next to a pilot sitting by himself on a stool at the very edge of the bar.

“Hey, Snap, come join us—be sociable.” He nodded towards the group. “Plenty of room.”  
  
Snap Wexley didn’t look up from his drink. “So that’s your pet Stormtrooper?”  
  
Poe was cautious. There was no malice in Wexley’s voice, but his choice of words was less than charitable. “That’s the man who saved my life a week ago, Snap.” He waited to continue until the other man looked over to meet his gaze. “He’s not one of them. He’s a good man.” Poe smiled. “Give him a chance. See for yourself.”  
  
Poe’s grin was infectious, and Wexley couldn’t help smiling back at his friend. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, Poe, if you say so. Sorry, it’s just that—a Stormtrooper, you know? After what they’ve done to—”  
  
“Believe me, Snap, he hates the First Order just as much as we do. Probably more.”  
  
The bartender slid Poe’s refilled glass over to him and began collecting an assortment of other drinks together on a tray. Wexley swiveled his seat to face Poe, and leaned in conspiratorially. “So. Just escaped, first taste of freedom, huh? Is he wild in the sack?”  
  
Poe nearly choked on his drink. “Man, Snap, you do a 180 at lightspeed, you know?” He coughed, clearing his throat. “And to answer your question, I have no idea.”  
  
Snap eyed him skeptically. “Really? That’s not like you, Dameron.”  
  
“C’mon, man, give me a little more credit than that. The guy is just starting to figure things out. From what he’s told me, it sounds like his whole life was a cross between a military academy and indoctrination at a temple run by psychotic sadists. I don’t think they were doing **anything** too wild there.”

“I’d have thought the opposite. ‘Carpe diem,’ you know?” Snap turned to look appraisingly at Finn. “Well, if I know you, you’ll find out before too long.”

Poe turned as well, and both men took a moment to gaze at Finn, who was in the middle of describing the escape flight on the TIE fighter, if his hand gestures were any indication. Engrossed in his story, he didn’t notice the attention from the two men at the bar. “Maybe.” Poe tore his eyes away from Finn and looked back at Snap with a smirk. “But we have a little fight to get through first, huh? So for now, maybe just try to act like a human around him, rather than a walking di—”

“Got it, Dameron, I got it. I’ll be civil.” Snap moved to grab a bowl of snacks for the group, and both stood to make their way back to their group of friends.

As they rose, Poe nodded at an older officer sitting across the bar, who glowered back in response. Poe raised an eyebrow, turning back to Snap. “What’s up with Marsen?” He slid the tray, heavy with drinks, carefully off the bar into his hands.

“What’s ever up with him these days?” Snap shook his head dismissively. “The usual. Crappy day with the cadets. Going his standard route, rather than actually doing anything about it.”

“Damn. He’s going to kill himself with that stuff if he doesn’t watch out.” Their arrival with fresh drinks and food was met with raucous cheers, and Poe sat himself back down on the couch next to Finn. He gestured grandly to Wexley, who had sat down next to Jessika Pava. “Finn, this is my good friend and recon flier extraordinaire, Snap.”

Snap smiled warmly at Finn. “Finn, I hear you were on the Falcon, flew it off that desert planet. That’s crazy! Most of us here would give our left arm for the chance to step foot on that ship. What was it like?”

Suddenly, everyone had a question for Finn. He tried to tell everything he knew about the Falcon, though he admitted freely when his technical knowledge was lacking. Just having been on that ship—with Rey and Solo and Chewbacca—seemed to confer a badge of legitimacy in the pilots’ eyes. He wasn’t just a Stormtrooper anymore. He’d been on the Falcon. Finn didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he was starting to feel like he might be able to make a few more friends—real friends—amongst the Resistance.

Poe couldn’t help but smile as he watched his buddies fawn over Finn once they realized his connection to Solo’s old ship. He leaned back, lacing his fingers together behind his head, and sighed contentedly. His plan had panned out better than he could have hoped.


	4. One of the good guys

It was very late when the party finally broke up. Laughing and joking, Poe’s friends wished them both a good night and told Finn good-naturedly that they’d be grilling him about the Falcon again the next day.

“See, they’re not so bad, when you get to know ’em a little.” Poe slung his arm around Finn’s shoulders. “Particularly once they’ve had a couple. Speaking of which, I probably shouldn’t have had that last one. I’ll regret that later.” Poe thought back to his younger days, and the rough mornings he’d had after similar parties. He looked over at Finn, momentarily concerned. “Hey, how are you feeling? You’re probably not all that used to drinking, it can hit you pretty hard if you’re not careful. I was trying to keep an eye on what you had, but at the end there it got away from me a little.”

“I feel fine, Poe.” Finn wasn’t sure what to expect from drinking, but all things considered he felt pretty clear-headed. “I mean, I only had three or four of the shared drink from the pitcher, and then that blue thing at the end—”

Poe laughed, recalling the round of exotic cocktails that Snap had insisted on ordering. “Yeah, that’ll be the one that gets you.”

They were a few hundred feet away from the cantina when Poe stopped dead. “Shit, I forgot the projections. I should go back and get ’em, so they’ll be ready for tomorrow.”

“What did you forget?”

“Holographic projections of a few proposed attack patterns. I wanted to make some notes on them tonight before our morning briefing. Though tonight, holograms will probably only give me a headache. Still—” He turned back towards the base. “I should get them. I’ll just run back quick. Walk slow, and I’ll be back before you reach the campsite.” He grinned at Finn and began to jog back to the base.

Poe walked briskly back through the nearly empty cantina, retrieving the holopad. He waved goodnight to the bartender as he strode out. He thought he could just make out Finn’s shape in the distant darkness ahead. He didn’t notice that he had been followed out until he heard the voice behind him.

“Two days before a campaign and you’re shacking up with the enemy?” Colonel Marsen’s voice wasn’t considered melodious at the best of times. Drink rendered it positively ugly.

Poe stopped. He sighed, letting his shoulders drop, but he didn’t turn around.

“What’s gotten into you? You don’t hear the squads talking? You know what they’re saying?”

Poe closed his eyes wearily and shook his head, ever so slightly. A warning.

“Saying Snoke himself picked the prettiest flower to send as Poe’s personal savior! Put the perfect bait right in front of his nose. Hell, the General’s blind to it, too. Too wrapped up in gettin’ some again from that smuggler. And they can’t even see when the goddamned First Order spy starts brainwashing our ‘star pilot’ into betraying **his own** —”

Poe whirled, and his fist connected with a solid crack, laying Marsen flat. Poe grimaced as he shook the ache from his hand, staring down at the Colonel with disdain. As he began to stir, Poe squatted next to the prone figure, leaning in close.

“Marsen, if you say something like that again—about the General, or Finn, or me—I’ll break more than your nose. I’ll take apart the thing you love most in this world.”

Marsen paled, his eyes growing wide. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t _intentionally_ —”

“Lot more ships than pilots to fly ’em, these days. Sad.” Poe knew he wouldn’t follow through on that threat. He loved each and every rustbucket in the fleet too much for that. But Poe also knew that he looked dangerous when he was mad, and at that moment he was livid.

“Look, Marsen, everyone knows you’re a great pilot. There is no shame in being an instructor. But this wounded pride bullshit has got to stop. The General has given you orders. The only person who doesn’t value what you do is **you**.” Poe held Marsen’s gaze with his last word, and saw embarrassment flicker in his eyes.

Poe’s expression softened. “I’ll be honest, Marsen. Some of the squads have been assholes to you lately. I’ll talk with them. See if I can set ’em straight. But you have to get your shit together, too. We’re all in this fight together. The General knows what she’s doing. And Finn’s one of the good guys, trust me. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay? Meet you after morning report? They usually still have coffee left.” Poe knew from experience that Dr. Kalonia’s hangover remedies were very effective, but they took a good hour to kick in.

Marsen grasped Poe’s offered hand to help himself up from the ground. He took a long look at the younger man, then nodded curtly. “Thanks, Dameron. Tomorrow, then.”

Poe hoped the Colonel would meet him tomorrow as promised. He hated seeing the man alienate himself from the rest of the squad and let his talents go to waste. He watched as the older man shuffled back into the base, then turned and began walking back towards Finn.

Finn had begun to retrace his steps. The voices had carried, and though he didn’t catch the words, Poe’s tone was unmistakable. They had to have been fighting about him. He felt deflated, suddenly, all the positive energy from earlier that evening dissipating in a rush. He was shocked when Poe had punched the other man, but though every instinct was telling him to rush in and help Poe, he had stayed back, lest he make the situation worse. At least the two had appeared to part ways civilly. Finn cautiously began walking back towards the base to intercept Poe’s path. He waited until he could see Poe’s face clearly before he began to speak. “Was that about me?”

Poe stopped walking and ran his hand along the back of his neck, a reflexive action when he was trying to calm down. “Yes and no.”

“Poe, you don’t have to protect me. If I’m causing more harm than good here—”

Poe shook his head. “Colonel Marsen is a renowned asshole, at least lately. He’s a technically excellent pilot, but he’s one of those who’s just not built for combat.” They started walking back to the campsite. “Nerve failed him during a routine mission. Nearly lost a whole squadron. So the General busted him down, reassigned him to a flight instructor position, and he’s had a chip on his shoulder ever since. Can’t really understand why, it suited everyone, but it got under his skin. I’d think he’d be happy to be off the mission roster. Anyway, since then, he’s been unbearable to work with, and that’s during the day, when he’s sober.” Poe continued, carefully. “You’re still new here. An easy target.”

“So the Colonel said, what? That you were a traitor for protecting me? Being my friend?” Finn shook his head in frustration.

“Marsen was a little cruder than that. But yeah, basically.” Poe instantly regretted his candor. He didn’t want to make Finn feel awkward.

“Cruder? What—oh.” Finn felt himself blushing furiously as he realized what Poe meant.

“Sorry.” They reached the campsite, and Poe flopped down on his bed, sighing wearily.

“No, Poe, **I’m** sorry that you got dragged into this, just because—” Finn paused, but he couldn’t think of a way to say what he wanted without shriveling up into a ball of pure embarrassment. _Just because that guy thinks we might be together. Even though that’s crazy. Because you’re absolutely perfect, and I’m_ — _just Finn._ He settled on a more neutral phrase. “—just because I’m your friend.”

“Hey, don’t let that jerk get you down. You were there tonight, everyone else thinks you’re great. Forget him.” Poe sat up, looking over at Finn, his brows knotted with worry. “Seriously, that group usually takes longer to warm up to anyone. You were a star.”

Finn felt himself blushing again. “Thanks for introducing me to everybody. Your friends are a really good group.”

“ **Your** friends too, now. You’ll see.” Poe grabbed himself a bottle of water and tossed one to Finn. He settled back down on his bed.

Finn gazed thoughtfully in Poe’s direction. “Really, though. I appreciate it. I know that I’m a liability—”

Poe groaned dramatically. “You have **got** to stop that, Finn. You’re a great guy. But it can be hard for other folks to see it if you don’t believe it, yourself.” He was quiet for a moment, then grinned. “But I bet that if we all try hard enough, we can eventually convince you that **you’re** as awesome as you think **we** are. Deal?”

Finn laughed. “Deal. Thanks, Poe.”

“You got it. Don’t forget to drink that water, or else you’ll wake up feeling like twelve kinds of hell tomorrow.” Poe finished his own bottle of water, tossing the empty container back towards his foot locker before pulling his blankets over his shoulder. “And Finn? If it makes you feel better? I think that what just happened will actually help Marsen. Act like a little bit of a wake-up call. I hope we can get him back working with everyone as a team. Step one might have not happened exactly like I would’ve planned it—” Poe snickered, thinking of the Colonel’s astonishment at being knocked down. “—but if it helps him start to get cleaned up, it’ll have been worth it. G’night, Finn.” Poe rolled over, and for the first night in many days, he was soon sound asleep.

Finn drank his water slowly, listening to the quiet sounds of the night. He thought about the days ahead, the courage needed for the upcoming fight against the First Order. He had started by trying to run, but he wasn’t afraid to fight any more. He thought of Rey, alone, so very far away. He thought about Poe, sleeping only a few steps away. And, thinking about Poe, Finn wondered if he might muster up a very different kind of courage, before it was too late.


End file.
